If Birds Could Fly
by Phoenix Bradley
Summary: Taking care of a kid changes everything. After whitnessing a fan's death in the middle of a restaurant, her little sister is left with nowhere to go...
1. The Hospital

If Birds Could Fly...

by, Smeagol's girl

(Takes place a year after Secret Window in the fall. People tend to get depressed during this time of year because of the lack of sunlight, especially when there's no one around to care. Everyone in town is afraid of him, and Amy and Ted aren't around to give him hell anymore. What else is there? Rated PG-13 for language. I own nothing except for any unfamiliar characters.)

_If birds could fly a thousand miles_

_Then why can't they carry_

_Things in life that I don't need_

_Everything I try to bury?_

_If mouths could tell a thousand tales_

_Then why is it so hard_

_To find the words to say to you_

_When we're not so far?_

_When I look into your eyes I see_

_A familiar life I used to have_

_Everything I used to be_

_I see a reflection, through you, of me_

_Everytime you laugh_

_I wish I could laugh with you_

_But things in life will fade_

_And I'm fading too..._

-"If Birds Could Fly", by me

"What can I get for you, sir?"

Mort Rainey looked up his menu at the waitress, all dressed in her uniform with a pink apron over a baby blue dress. Her blonde hair was brushed back in a ponytail, and to him, she looked like she had too much makeup on.

"A cheeseburger," he answered, sounding weary.

"What would you like on it?"

"Lettuce, Tomatoe, katsup, mayo, and bacon. Extra bacon. Missed breakfast this morning," he added, as if she cared.

"Done that before a few times. Fries with that?"

"Seasoned," he replied. She nodded and walked off. He sighed and leaned against the wall, resting his chin in his hand, looking around at the other customers. There was an old man, sitting with his wife, holding her hand and flirting with her shamelessly. Sitting at the bar were a few young men who probly hated their jobs and came here to rant about it. There wasn't a wedding band on any of their fingers. Mort had thrown his out a long time ago.

There was a newly wed couple, flirting to the extreme, making anyone sitting around them nausious. Then, at the back of the restaurant, a teen girl sat, dressed in a long black trench coat with chains, plaid pants and black boots coming over them. Her t-shirt had a the initials 'BA' printed on it in scratchy writting going vertical, and a halo above the 'B'. She was wearing a dog collar, spiked bracelets, black lipstick, white face paint, and black eyeliner forming tears down her face. She was a sight.

Mort snorted and rolled his eyes. Teens these days. Sooner or later she'd look back on what she wore and say, "What the hell was I thinking?" She was coughing into her sleeve which was drawn partially over her hand, her spine rippling with each cough like what a cat dose when it hacks up a hairball. It was not a pleasant sound to hear. A little girl sat across from her. Probably her daughter. Teen girls seemed to be a lot more loose now-a-days as well. Typical, he thought. He had been a wild teen once too so he really had no right to judge her right now.

The girl looked up at him and her eyes widened. He heard her tell the little girl to wait where she was, that she'd be right back, and she stood up, heading in his dirrection. Great, he thought to himself. Another freak to deal with.

"Excuse me," she said, putting on a smile, which really didn't go with her attire at all. "Are you Mort Rainey?"

"Yes," he said, forcing a smile. He had to try and at least be a little polite.

"Holy crap! I love your books. They're so amazing," she said with as much enthusiasm as her seemingly deep state of depression would allow. "I especially liked, 'Everybody Drops the Dime'. That was a very good collection of novellas, at least that's what I thought."

"Glad you enjoyed it," he said, smiling for real now. It had been a long time since he had run into any fans. "Is that your sister over there?" he asked, pointing to the little girl.

"Yeah," she said. "My little sister, Marissa. She's six and doesn't read very much. Listen, I know you must hate being bugged like this, but can I get your autograph?"

"Sure," he said. She walked back to her table, pulling out a backpack from underneath the table and shuffled through it. There was a lot of clothing in it, and he wondered why? It wasn't any of his bussiness so he wouldn't ask. Finally she came back with 'Every Body Drops the Dime' in her hand and gave it to him. "We're on vacation and I wanted it with to read again."

He smiled at her and cracked it open to the plank white sheet at the very front, next to the jacket pocket. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Mary," she said softly.

He wrote down, 'To my biggest fan, Mary. With love, Mort Rainey.' When he was done he gave it to her, watching her face brighten up a little as she read it.

"With love?" she asked. "Thanks. I'll just make sure my boyfriend doesn't see this." He chuckled a little. "Okay, I'll leave you alone now- COUGH! COUGH!" She stepped away from him and bent over, coughing out of control, her body trembling with every one. The book in her hand fell to the ground, and he began to wonder if it was more than just a cold now?

"Miss?" he asked. She staggered backwards, coughing even harder, sweat breaking out on her face and her eyes watering. Mort slowly got to his feet as she fell to her knees, coughing harder and harder. Across the room, the little sister ran over in front of her.

"Mary?" she asked frantically. "Mary, are you okay? Are you choking?" She was panicing, and who could blame her? She was only six after all.

"Hey!" called Mort. "Someone call for an ambulence!" There was scattered commotion, and he soon saw someone make a run for the phone.

Mary fell to the ground unconcious, and her little sister screamed and started sobbing.

Mort sat in the waiting room in the hospital. Mary had been rushed to the emergency room, while the little sister had to sit outside with him. She looked afraid as she sat at the far end, all alone. He felt bad for her, and stood up, approaching her slowly. Her blue sad eyes looked up at him and she sniffled.

"Are you okay?" asked Mort, kneeling down in front of her. She looked up at him and nodded. "Can I get you anything? A soda or a candy bar?"

"No," she said softly, shaking her head, barely making any eye contact with him.

"You didn't get to eat today in the restaurant did you?" She shook her head again. "I think you should, I mean, would Mary want you to go hungry?"

"W-What if she dies before I come back from the- the- the snack machine?" he was bothered by this question and didn't know what to think. Did she honestly think Mary was going to die? He thought it had only been a very bad cold after all. He looked at her in sympathy.

"I'll go get it myself and you can stay here. Would you like that?" She nodded. "What kind of candy do you like?"

"I like... I like Snickers," she said softly. He smiled and nodded.

"You want a drink too?" She nodded. "What kind?"

"Mt. Dew or Coke." He patted her on the shoulder and walked off to the vending machine, bringing back her Snickers and Mt. Dew. He had gotten himself a bag of Doritoes and Mt. Dew, and sat next to her, handing her the candy and the soda.

"Th- thankyou, Mister," she said softly.

"So, when are your parents coming?" he asked, glancing down at his watch.

"They're not coming," she said softly. "They died last year in a car crash." Mort's eyes widened. So there was a reason both of them carried around backpacks, stuffed with clothing. The little girl's was laying on the seat. It was pink 'Hello, Kitty' backpack with flowers. Mary's had been plaid and matched her pants.

"Where do you live then?" he asked, as if the answer wasn't obvious.

"At the homeless shelters. We like to walk around a lot. Mary said- said that we're gonna go to New York city someday and see the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty."

"So you're both going to New York?" he asked. "That's a very long walk."

"Y-yeah, but we're gonna do it, jus' as soon as she gets out of the hospital." Mort sighed and opened his Mt. Dew.

"Yeah," he muttered. The kid's dreams were empty and she didn't even know it. Mary was mostlikely not leaving the hospital anytime soon, and with no family, and probably no money, how would they pay for the bill? It was amazing they had even made it this far. It was sort of sad, seeing how naive she was.

The nurse who was working on Mary came, and Mort walked over to him, bringing his Mt. Dew with him. "How is she?" he asked. The nurse looked at his clipboard an sighed.

"She's not going to make it," he said softly.

"What?" asked Mort. This was happening too fast.

"She's got lung cancer, mostlikely from a lot of second hand smoke. Do you smoke, sir?"

"No," he lied. "And I'm not her father."

"I can see that," he said looking him up and down. "As soon as she could talk, she sang like a bird. She told us about the family situation." Mort glanced over at the little girl, sitting with her hands in her lap, waiting for him.

"What family?" he muttered. "Is there anyone left to take them in?"

"Not that we can find," said the nurse. "Are you in anyway related to them?"

"I just met them at the restaurant about six blocks down. I was giving Mary an autograph right before she went into her coughing attack. I don't even know the little kid's name."

"It's Marissa," said the nurse. "Wait a minute, don't I know you from somewhere?" He thought for a minute then snapped his fingers. "Mort! Mort Rainey, right?"

"Yeah," he said, smirking a little.

"It's an honor to meet you," he said, eagerly shaking his hand.

"So, what's going to happen to... uh... Marissa over there?" he asked, gesturing to her. The nurse shrugged.

"It's out of my hands. Social services will have to work there."

"Where will she stay tonight?"

"Probly in some group home somewhere. How should I know?"

"I'd think that, since you're her sister's nurse, you would've taken the time to get these details by now."

"There's no need to get tense, Mr. Rainey. If it'll make you feel any better, I'll go find out now and get back to you." Mort nodded.

"It would. Thankyou." The nurse nodded and walked off, while Mort turned, looking at Marissa who was swinging her legs back and forth, staring at the ground blankly. He sighed and walked back over, starting to sit down in the seat next to her.

"Don't sit there!" she said, looking up at him with big eyes. Mort froze and looked at her.

"Why?"

"Mr. Jibby is sitting there. You'll squish him!" Mort made a face and suddenly remembered when he was six and had imaginary friends of his own. The ironic thing was it was many years later and not much had changed.

"Sorry," he said, moving to the seat next to Mr. Jibby. He pulled his bag of Doritoes open and crunched into one, while Marissa reached over in the kiddie binn and pulled out a children's book.

"Can you read, Mister?" she asked. He looked up at her, still chewing on a Dorito. He chewed quickly and swallowed it.

"Yes," he said. She held up the book.

"Could you read this to me? Mr. Jibby can't read yet."

"Sure," he said, standing up and sitting on the little table across from her.

"Let's see," he said opening it to the front page. "'The Cat in the Hat'..."

(A/N: Secret Window is my movie obsession for the month, mainly cuz Johnny Depp was so friggin' gorgeous in it! If only I were older, or he were younger...)


	2. What Now?

We beg to borrow

We beg to steel

We beg for everything

We beg to feel

We beg for love

I guess we beg for hate

We beg for everything

And pray it's no too late

Well everybody's trying to feel

I guess we're trying to heal

Everybody's got to kneel

No way to re-invent the wheel

Everybody's looking for

Their chance to speak

When you need to, call on

Me when your spirit gets too weak

So when your spirit gets too weak

When the water seems to deep

When you think there's just no way

I'll be there for you night and day

When the mountain seems to steep

When your spirit gets to weak

When you think there's just no way

I'll be there for you night and day...

-'When Your Spirit Gets Too Weak', Plus One

Mort watched from the window as a sheet was drawn over Mary's body. The nurse had been right. The cancer in her lungs had been spotted too late and she had died a few minutes ago. Marissa was standing next to him, too short to see out the window.

"I wanna see," she said, jumping up and down. She had no idea that Mary had been dying. Mort hadn't had the heart to just break it to her. Almost two hours ago he'd been ordering a cheeseburger at a diner. How the hell had that led to this?

"I don't think you should be here," he said softly.

"Where's Mary?" asked Marissa, getting worried again. "Lemme see!" Mort sighed and reached down, hoisting her on to his hip and holding her high enough to see inside. "What are they doing?" she asked. "Is Mary sleeping?"

"Yeah," said Mort, sighing. "She's sleeping."

"Mr. Rainey?" said a voice behind. He turned and set Marissa down. It was the nurse. "I found the information you wanted..." Mort, not wanting Marissa to hear, grabbed the nurse's arm and pulled him around the corner. Marissa stayed where she was, hoping she'd be allowed inside.

"Well?" asked Mort. The nurse shrugged.

"She has no family, no one else to go to."

"I think we established that a while ago," said Mort, getting impatient. "So is she going to a group home or what?"

"If we don't find foster care for her soon, yes." He sighed and leaned against the wall, running his hand over his mouth and chin.

"Poor kid," he muttered.

"So, when are you gonna tell her?" Mort's eyes widened.

"What? No. No, no, no. I can't do that. I barely even know the kid. I just happened to be there where her sister collapsed."

"Well, you've been comforting her for this long, I thought you'd be the one to tell her this."

"Sorry," he said, holding his hands up and stepping back. "I just came to make sure they got here alright. I don't want to tell her, and I won't. So find someone else." He turned and started to walk away when a little voice stopped him.

"Mr. Rainey?"

He sighed and turned, looking at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you going to stay when Mary wakes up?" she asked, putting on her puppy eyes. Little girls seemed to be so good at that, and it took him amazing strength to shake his head.

"I can't. I'm going home."

"But what if Mary wakes up?" wined Marissa. Mort was at the end of his line.

"Then Mr. Nurse over there will take care of it, not Mr. Rainey. Mr. Rainey is going bye-bye." With that, he turned and left the waiting room, heading for the elevator. After pressing the button, he looked back to see the nurse walking into the waiting room with Marissa, then kneeling down and placing two hands on her shoulders. He watched as the nurse spoke to her, and Marissa suddenly tore away from him and out of the waiting room and down the hall, sobbing loudly. The doors to the elevator opened, but Mort stared in the dirrection she had run in.

Come on, he thought to himself. You know you can't just turn your back and ignore her. He stared at the empty elevator and growled, turning from it and walking down the hall. "Shit," he muttered. His mind knew him better than he knew himself.

It did not take him long to find her. She was sitting on a bench, crying and staring at her shoe. The laces were undone and she was trying to tie them. "Come on!" she cried. "Work!"

"Hey," said Mort. She looked up at him and ran her sleeve over her nose.

"What do you want?" she asked, sniffling loudly.

"I was headed to the elevator," he muttered pulling something out of his jacket pocket. "And I realized I wasn't going to drink this, so do you want it?" She stared at the can of Mt. Dew and shook her head.

"No thankyou," she whispered, rubbing her eyes again. He set it down on the bench, a few feet away from her.

"Just incase you change your mind," he said softly. He started to walk away again, but stopped when he heard her fighting with her shoelaces again. A stab of pity hit him, and he turned around again. "Need any help?" he asked kneeling in front of her again.

"My shoelace won't tie," she said pouted.

"Here," said Mort, reaching over and tying her shoe for her. "There," he asid softly, looking into her eyes. "What did the nurse tell you?"

"He said Mary's never waking up," she said, sniffling. "Mary's not okay, is she, Mr. Rainey?"

"No," he whispered. "She's not."

"Is she coming back?" There was a certain sadness in her eyes and he hated this. Why couldn't Mary have a mother to take care of this? Or why couldn't it have been someone else they had met in the diner instead of him?

"Not anymore," he said softly. Marissa started sobbing again, and he rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her a little. The nurse was bound to come down here at any minute. He had to. There were a million places Mort wanted to be other than this. "Need a hug?" he asked. She nodded, her bottom lip sticking out and he wrapped his arms around her as her small ones entangled around his neck. He picked her up and held her while she sobbed loudly into his shoulder.

It was then that the nurse did come down to find them. "Thought you had somewhere to go, Mr. Rainey," he inquired.

"Got lost trying to find the elevator," he said, stroking Marissa's back and hair. The nurse nodded and smiled. Mort sighed. The kid was already clinging on to him. There was no way he could just leave her here now. Why did these things always have to happen to him? And he was ready to get home and start writting. The child in his arms was more important, and he realized this. "Look," he said at last. "I'll take her to a group home tonight, if that's alright."

"She's got no family, Mr. Rainey. And out here we're not too uptight about the law."

"So I've noticed," he muttered, remembering how lucky he had been to not get arrested ther minute he was considered a murderer. "Any recommendations?"

"There's one that has a good rep. It's about a two hour drive from here though. S'posed to be a very high quality establishment."

"I'll see to it then," he said, setting Marissa down and kneeling in front of her.

"Are you taking me to an orphanage?" she asked.

"Sort of," he said softly. "It's not like the one in Annie. Have you ever seen that?" Marissa nodded. "It's a lot nicer than that, and chances are you'll only be there for a few weeks," he added, knowing it was wrong to lie, but the kid had been through enough for one day. "So, you can either come with me or stay here. Either way you'll get your ride down there."

"I wanna go with you," she said softly. "Mary liked you, so she must've trusted you." Mort smiled.

"Yeah, I guess she did."

"Can I say goodbye to Mary?" Mort looked up at the nurse, not having a clue as to whether or not that was allowed.

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "She's been taken to the morgue and we don't allow children in there."

"I want to tell her I love her!" whined Marissa as the tears started to come back. The stab of pity came back, and Mort wondered why Marissa seemed so good at doing that. The nurse, however, did not bend, and in the end, Marissa walked out with Mort, crying, but not throwing a tantrum.

(A/N: I didn't have much time to work on this. 'Lost' was on and I couldn't miss it. I promise the next chapter will be much better, and definently a little longer. Till then, Hasta Luego!)


	3. Santa!

I still remember the world from the eyes of a child

Slowly those feelings were clouded by what I know now

Where has my heart gone?

An uneven trade for the real world

Oh, I, I want to go back to

Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all

I still remember the sun always warm on my back

Somehow it seems colder now

Where has my heart gone?

Trapped in the eyes of a stranger

Oh I, I want to go back to believing in everything

-Evanescence

"Aw, shit!" muttered Mort as the rain started to fall. There was a tiny gasp from the back seat and he shook his head, remembering there were innocent ears behind him. "I mean, oh shoot," he said, smiling at her through the rearview mirror. "Sorry." She merely stared back at him, and he looked back at the road.

"Is the orphanage far?" Marissa asked.

"Yeah," admitted Mort. "And this rain doesn't look like it'll clear up anytime soon."

"Are you going to crash, Mr. Rainey?"

"Let's hope not," he said with a small smirk.

"Can you see where you're going?"

"Yes," he said, realizing this was going to turn into twenty questions soon.

"Are you lost?"

"No."

"Do you need a map?"

"Not yet."

"Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Pretty sure."

"Are you grumpy, Mr. Rainey?"

I will be if the kid doesn't shut up soon, he thought to himself. "A little."

"Mr. Rainey..."

"You know what," he said, in as kind of tone as possible, considering how annoyed he was now. "Can we not ask Mr. Rainey questions for a while?"

"Actually," she said, looking sheepishly. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"I thought you went before we left?" he asked.

"I didn't have to go then. But I gots to now."

"Well, can it wait?"

"Nah-uh," she said, shaking her head.

Mort rolled his eyes and pulled over at the first gas station he could find. He walked with her inside and waited outside the door to the girl's bathroom.

"Hey, Morty!" called someone from the far end of the gas station. He looked up at the person waving at him.

"Hey... you," he called back. Who the hell are you? he wondered. The man walked up to him, and Mort thought he looked a little like Santa Clause, big beard, balding and fat.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten me already?" he said, smiling. Mort grimaced as he tried to remember.

"Steve Grainey! I was your neighbor back when you still lived with your wife."

"Steve!" said Mort, suddenly remembering. Had he always been this fat? "What's up? How are you?"

"Nothing interesting," he admitted. "I've been working in the malls as a Santa Clause, letting small kids sit in my lap and tell me what they want for Christmas, like I really care." They both laughed. "The security guard says I make a perfect Santa. Says I look just like him."

"Really?" asked Mort. "I never really thought of that." Steve chuckled, his beer belly bouncing up and down. The door to the girl's bathroom opened, and Marissa stepped out.

"I'm ready now Mr... Santa!" She ran over to Steve and gave him a hug. Mort held back a laughed, while Steve kneeled down, deciding to play along.

"And what's your name little girl?" he asked, ho-hoing.

"Shouldn't you already know that, Santa?" she asked. Mork smirked, placing a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

"I do know that...?" He looked up at Mort who then mouthed out 'Marissa'. "Marissa," he said with a grin. Marissa smiled, satisfied now. "What do you want for Christmas, Marissa? A pony?"

"No," she said, shaking her head.

"A Barbie?"

"I don't like Barbies, Santa."

"That's right," he said. "Must've slipped my mind. Well, what do you want then?"

She looked at him, her smile fading. "I want... I want my mommy and my daddy back, and my sister Mary. I want to spend Christmas with them again." Steve looked at her awkwardly, then glanced up at Mort who's smile was also gone.

"Hey, Marissa?" said Mort, knowing the situation needed explaining. "It's going to be a long drive still. Why don't you pick out a snack you want."

"Anything?"

"Anything," he said with a smile. She walked off, seeming a little happier. Steve stood up and looked at Mort curiously.

"What was that all about? It was like that scene from Home Alone," he said in a hushed tone.

"I was eating at a diner, about a half hour from here when I see her and her sister Mary," he said, checking every so often to make sure Marissa wasn't coming back. "Mary comes up to me, asking for an autograph when she suddenly has a very bad coughing fit in the middle of the diner, and I drove her little sister up to the hospital."

"Yikes," said Steve. "That's rough."

"Yeah, well it turns out her parents are dead, and Mary died within an hour or so of being in the hospital." Steve's eyes widened.

"Are you serious?"

"Would I be driving her up to a group home if I wasn't, Steve?"

"You mean that one up in Wilmington?" he asked. "Geez, Mort, that's another hour and a half away! And when you get there, there's a whole bunch of paper work to fill out, and then you've got to wait till they have an opening. You might as well just go home and do this over the phone tomorrow morning." He turned and looked at Marissa who was looking over the candy bars.

"And what about her?" he asked. "If the Sheriff sees a little girl in my car that's going to be more than suspicious to him."

"How the hell is that suspicious?" asked Steve.

"The man thinks I killed my wife and her boyfriend! Everything I do, to him, seems suspicious."

"But you didn't right?"

"What?" asked Mort, not completely focused.

"You didn't kill them, did you?"

"Why? I look like the murdering type to you? All I know is they both disappeared almost a year ago, and the sheriff won't get off my back about it."

"Rough," said Steve, shaking his head. "This is not your year."

"Since when have I had a good year, Steve? The last good year I can remember was when Amy and I got married, and even that didn't last."

"Sorry to hear that," said Steve, nodding. "Look, just take the girl home with you, have her duck down if you pass by the sheriff, and take care of the group home thing tomorrow."

"That sounds like I am kidnapping her," he muttered. "I don't need more bad things hanging over my head right now."

"Hey, you'd feel a lot better than if you just dumped her off here and left her."

"I wasn't planning to Ste... Santa. Hey, Marissa," he said with a smile. Steve looked down and beamed at her.

"Ho ho ho!" he said. "Santa's got to be going home to the Mrs. Clause. Merry Christmas!"

"Bye, Santa!" said Marissa, waving as he walked out the door. She watched as he drove away, and turned to Mort. "Why is Santa driving a rusty truck, Mr. Rainey?" Mort looked up and shrugged.

"Er... he wanted to blend in a little. You can't bring a sleigh to a gas station."

"Can I get this bag of chips?" she asked, holding up a bag of Doritoes. He smirked.

"As long as you're willing to share." She giggled and he went to the counter with her to pay.


	4. Rain

Come stop your crying

It'll be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you from

All around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

For one so small

You seem so strong

My arms will hold you

Keep you safe and warm

This bond between us

Can't be broken

I will be here

Don't you cry...

-'You'll Be In My Heart', Phil Collins

(Yes, I know it's a little cheesey, but it's fitting. You'll see what I mean later.)

"Here we are," he said as they stepped into his house. Marissa looked around, seeming a little shy now. This place was completely new to her. "Tomorrow we'll go to the group home. Tonight, we'll camp out here."

"Is this your house Mr. Rainey?" asked Marissa.

"Yup," he said, taking his jacket off and hanging it after placing his keys on the right hooks.

"It's big," she said, looking around. Mort walked over to his fireplace and started a fire, Marissa watching him at a cautious distance. "Where's your bedroom, Mr. Rainey?"

"Upstairs, but I usually sleep on the couch."

"I've slept on the sidewalk before. It's hard."

"Why were you sleeping ther- oh, right." He had almost forgotten that she and Mary had been homeless for some time now. Standing up, he walked over to her. "Want to give me your jacket?" he asked. She paused for a moment, then slid it off, with a little help from him, and he hung it next to his. "C'mon," he said, taking her hand. "I'll show you where you can sleep."

He took her upstairs to the seldom used guest bedroom, and gave her a long t-shirt to wear as pajamas. She giggled when she saw how long it was on her, and he tucked her in.

"All set?" he asked. She nodded. "Don't need to go to the bathroom?" She shook her head. "Just so you know, it's down the room next to yours, just in case." He stood up and headed for the door.

"Wait!" she called. He stopped and turned.

"What?" he asked.

"We forgot to say our prayers." He made a face.

"Pray?" he asked.

"Mommy and Daddy always made me and Mary say our prayers before bed." He shrugged, deciding not to let the kid think he was a heathen, and kneeled next to the bed. This was a little awkward, but then, so was having a little girl in the house.

"Fold your hands," said Marissa. Mort, knowing it was sad that a six year old had to remind him how to pray, folded his hands. "Close your eyes." He obeyed, and she did the same thing. "Now I lay me down to sleep. Pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take," she prayed, Mort started to stand up, thinking that was it, but when she started to say more, he quickly got back in position. "God bless Mommy, God bless Daddy, and God bless Mary. Tell them all I love them, and I want them to come back soon." Mort opened one eye and looked at her in sympathy. "Amen," she finished and he opened his eyes with her.

"Alright then," he said, starting to stand up again.

"Aren't you going to say something?" she asked. He sighed and kneeled back down again, grimacing in pain as his knees started to ache.

"Uh, God," he said. Now it was officially awkaward. He didn't know how to pray, and Marissa was probably soon going to find out. "Thank you for this beautiful evening... well, alright, it's not that... great... but uh, thanks. Help us both to be able to sleep well tonight... and... er... amen?"

He opened his eyes and smirked. "We done now?" he asked. She nodded. "I'll be downstairs on the sofa if you need anything." She smiled and turned over, shutting her eyes. He turned off the light and went back down the stairs, soon falling alseep on the sofa.

There was a loud crack of thunder and a bright flash of lightning, waking Mort from his sleep, immediatly. The rain outside was hammering down, and he wondered if it was hailing too. Inside the living room was dark, and he yawned, a little cranky that he had been woken so suddenly. Another flash of lightning lit up the room and outlined the face of someone standing about a foot away from him. Mort jumped, reaching for the light and flicked it on, only to find a smaller person, blinking and rubbing her eyes.

"Marissa?" he asked, squinting a little. "What is it? What's wrong?" She stuck out her lip a little and sniffled.

"I'm scared," she whined. His gaze softened a little. He had forgotten what it was like to be afraid of thunder storms.

"It's only a little thunder. Nothing to be afraid of," he said softly.

"I'm still scared," she said, still pouting. There was another crash of thunder and she jumped with a small gasp. Her eyes started to water, and Mort signalled her to come to him. She did so, and he pulled her into his lap, putting his arm around her. "It was raining like this when Mommy and Daddy died," she said softly.

"You miss them, don't you?" he said, more as a statement rather than a question. She nodded. "You know what helps when it's a thunder storm like this?"

"What?"

"When you see the flash, start counting one Mississippi... two Mississippi..., like that until you hear the thunder. The more you count, the farther away the storm is. Want to try?" Marissa thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay," she said softly. They waited and soon there was a flash of lightning. Marissa gave a small yelp when she saw it, but Mort gave her shoulder a soft comfort squeeze and got her started.

"One Mississippi... Two Mississippi... Three Mississippi... Four Mississippi... Five Mississippi..."

BOOM!

Marissa jumped again, and he smirked. "Now next time, I'll bet we'll make it to six," he said reassuringly. "Wait for it..." There came the flash and he started again, Marissa just watching silently. This time he did get to six, and Marissa seemed to be relaxing a little. "You do it this time," he said. She nodded, still looking nervous, and waited for the flash.

"One Mississippi... Two Mississippi... Three Mississippi... Four Mississippi... Five Mississippi... Six Mississippi... Seven Mississippi..."

BOOM!

The thunder wasn't sounding as loud, and Marissa even dared to smile a little. Mort yawned and stretched, feeling the weariness come back to him. Marissa kept counting till she realized the only thunder left was Mort's snoring. She giggle a little, and laid down on the sofa, resting her head in his lap as the storm gradually died away.

(a/n: I'm sorry this was so short! I didn't have time much to work on it.)


	5. I Can't Go!

When Mort woke, he found he had leaned over, resting his head on the arm of the sofa, which was now doing a number on his neck, and Marissa was sprawled across his lap. He couldn't help but smile, and slowly got to his feet, being extra careful and extra gentle so he wouldn't wake her. Her hands twitched a little, but she made no further movement as he pulled a blanket over her, then went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He never actually made a real breakfast for himself in a long time, but she was going to wake up hungry, it was inevitable, so he thanked his luck that he at least knew how to make French Toast and scrambled eggs. About a half hour or so after he got started, he heard Marissa's footsteps in the kitchen, and he turned to her with a smirk.

"Look who finally decided to wake up," he said softly.

"I fell asleep on the sofa," she said, smiling and acting like she had just gotten away with something mischievous.

"My sofa?" he asked making a face. "Did I say you could sleep there?" She shook her head, starting to giggle. "Well, what am I going to have to do with you?"

"Uh-oh!" she said stepping back.

"I think I'm gonna have to dump you outside!" he said, breaking a smile. She squealed and he picked her up before she could get away and started running to the front door. Marissa was kicking and screaming with laughter the whole way, and he soon had the door open and began swinging her, threatening to throw her out. "One... Two... THREE!" She gave a squeal and started laughing when she realized he wasn't throwing her out after all. Laughing too, he set her down and watched her run back inside. He smiled, knowing he hadn't had fun like that in a very very long time. What had come over him anyway? He almost never got that playful with a kid.

"Looks to me like you got a little infestation of little people," said a voice from behind. Mort's heart froze. He knew that voice.

"What the hell do you want, Shooter?" he asked, closing the door behind him so Marissa wouldn't see.

"As if killin' your wife and those men wasn't bad enough. Now you're after a child." He shook his head. "Just when I thought you couldn't sink any lower."

"Not now," he said simply, turning to his door. Fighting with Shooter never got him anywhere, and making him angry would put Marissa in danger most likely.

"You can just walk on in there, Mr. Rainey, but you know damn well I'm gonna follow you's in, so you might as well save the girl the trauma and stay out here." Mort froze and turned around, hating it whenever Shooter had this kind of power over him. "That's better," he said in a cocky tone that made Mort want to gag.

"I don't know what you're after this time," he growled angrily. "But keep this girl out of it. The only person who did the killing was you, we both know that, so spare me the monologue and get your Mississippi ass off my property!"

"The only way you can keep that kid safe is by getting her as far away from you as possible," said Shooter in a dangerous tone.

"What do you think I'm doing today?"

"But you don't want to."

"What do you mean I don't want to? Of coarse I want to! The kid won't be safe here, you think I don't know that?"

"That's a lie, and you know it," said Shooter. "That lil' girl's gotten to you, made you all soft 'n mushy inside. You know she's a hell of a lot better than the lonliness you keep so close to."

"So what if she is?" said Mort. "You think I have a choice as to whether or not she stays?"

"Oh I know you's always got a choice, Rainey. You chose to keep me around incase you needed me."

"I wanted you around?" said Mort, sneering. "You're more of a dumb ass than I thought."

"It wasn't me who made the final decision about Amy." Mort froze again and looked at him. "That's right, but you couldn't see it. I was suggesting what could happen the entire time, what I could do for you. And you chose to let me go through with it. Remember?"

He suddenly saw himself back, right before Shooter had killed Amy. "I promise you miss," he remembered Shooter saying. "It was never me. This was all Mort Rainey's idea..."

"Now, that little girl in there is going to eat at you even when she's gone," continued Shooter. "Bad things happen to people who are alone for too long. They start to go crazy-like. Start to lose their sanity."

"You're suggesting I keep her here?" asked Mort, knowing something was screwy. Since when was Shooter honestly looking out for his well being? At least in a healthy manner?

"I'm suggesting you get yourself commited before you can do any damage to her or yourself."

"To myself?"

"You'd be surprised the things you can accomplish with enough free time." Inside he could hear Marissa calling for him.

"Mr. Rainey, are you coming in yet?"

"You heard her," said Shooter. "Get back in there and do whatever you feel you need to do. Just remember my warning."

"You will NOT lay one hand on her!" growled Mort. "You understand me? Not one hand!" With that, he turned around and stormed back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

Mort adjusted his jacket, and looked behind him to see if Marissa was coming yet. "You ready?" he called. He heard her give a small shout from her room, and he moved closer to the stairs. "What?" he called back.

"I can't!" came her voice. She sounded like she was crying, and he sighed, wondering why she had to bring on the water works now.

"What's wrong?" he called as he started up the stairs. She was sniffling, and he walked into her room to find her sitting on the bed with a photo in her hands. "Marissa, what's wrong?" he asked. She didn't respond, and he walked over and sat behind her, looking at the photo from behind. There was a family in it, including herself and Mary, the only two he recognized. "That your family?" he asked.

"Mommy and Daddy," she said pointing to the man and woman. "And me and Mary," she said, pointing to the other two. "We were s'posed to go to New York city for Christmas. I miss Mary." She started crying again, and he put his arms around her, drawing her into his lap and cradling her almost on instinct. Marissa's sobbing did not die down, and he gently shushed.

"Ssh," he said softly. "It's alright. It's going to be alright."

"I don't want to go," she sobbed. "I don't want to go to the orphanage."

"It's okay," he said softly, trying not to let her get to him any more than she already was.

"I wanna stay here with you."

"With me?" he asked, sounding a little shocked. "No you don't."

"Yes I do," she wailed.

"No you don't," he said gently. "My life is so boring. You wouldn't have any fun here."

"Yes I do!" she persisted, pouting now. "I don't wanna go away. Please don't make me!" He sighed. She was starting to get to him, and he was trying to hard to stay strong. Remember Shooter's warning, he thought to himself. "I don't wanna be all alone again."

"Stop," he muttered to himself. He was giving in, but he knew he shouldn't.

"I can't go, Mr. Rainey!" she sobbed. "I can't! I can't!"

"Alright," he whispered, giving in and feel terrible as he did. "Alright," he said again. "You can stay for a little while, but as soon as you want to go, we're going." She sniffled and nodded as he hugged her closer. "Okay?" he asked. "No need to cry now. It's going to be okay." Marissa looked up at him and nodded, her lower lip still trembling. "We're gonna get through this together," he said softly.

Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! his mind scolded, but he ignored it for now. Marissa's crying had almost completely stopped, and she seemed more at ease now. Just thinking of her being alone in a group home made him shudder, and he knew it'd be a while before he'd be able to take her there. But you'll have to eventually, warned his mind. Don't forget Shooter's warning.

"I won't," he said under his breath, thankful that Marissa hadn't heard him.

Mort walked down the isle of the small grocery store, trying to make sure no one he knew came near him. The storm from the previous night had caused a tree to get struck by lightning, making a nasty four car pile up, so the road leading to the outside of town was closed. Marissa was following him around closely, and he especially didn't want anyone to notice.

"Rainey?" came a female voice. He froze, closing his eyes, and turned to face the woman. He recognized her almost immediatly. She used to work at the post office, but now worked at this store. How could he have forgotten?

"Hey," he said, giving a brief smile and quickly turning back to the shelf in front of him. He didn't want to cause any trouble.

"I thought you'd moved away or something," she said in an almost friendly tone.

"Nope," he said, not looking at her. "Still here."

"It's just, you never come into town anymore. I just thought you left." Why the heck was she trying to make a conversation with him? She was the one who had made the first request to have the sheriff ban him from entering the village.

"I'll be out of here soon," he said softly. "The road was closed so I had nowhere else to go."

"Well, can I help you find anything?"

"We're looking for a toothbrush," said Marissa with a smile. The woman glanced down at her and back at Rainey.

"Who's this?" she asked.

"Someone," he muttered. "Marissa, why don't you go to the isle over there and try looking." She walked to the other end of the store to look around and Mort glanced up at the woman.

"Didn't know you had a niece," she said softly. "How long is she staying?"

"I don't know," he muttered.

"Is she your daughter then?"

"Nope. Amy decided to take off before we could make that happen."

"Well then, who is she?" He looked at her with unfriendly eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Since when did you give a damn?"

"I was just asking," she said defensively.

"Really?" he asked in a sarcastic tone. "Because, now correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that the last time we met, you wanted to get as far away from me as possible and now you won't leave me alone. Are you trying to get me in trouble?"

"I didn't realize it bothered you so much," she said softly.

"What? You think being sent into exile was the cherry on top of my sundae?"

"Exile?" she asked, folding her arms in front of her. "I sent you into exile?"

"No, but you helped support the movement. I already told you I'd be out of here as soon as I can, so do us both a favor and get the hell out of here."

"Whatever!" she said turning around. "I just came you see if you had changed at all over the last year. Guess I was wrong. Somethings never change."

"Well I'll make myself stand in the corner and think about what I've done then," he said with a sneer. "Good riddance!"

She walked away, muttering 'freak' under her breath while Mort watched her leave in absolute loathing.

"There's only chips and jerky stuff over there, Mr. Rainey," said a small voice behind him. He turned to Marissa, putting on his 'friendly' face, and nodded.

"Right," he muttered. "I'll go look over-"

"There," said another voice. It was the post office woman again, only she was just talking to Marissa, ignoring Mort completely. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Escuse me," he said. "But is there a reason for you to be he-"

"C'mon," she said to Marissa with a friendly smile. "I'll show you." Marissa started over to the isle, and the woman stuck her tongue out at him before following her. Mort couldn't help but snicker a little at that, and decided to wait there until it looked like they were done.

(A/N: this story might be updated a little slowly, because I am currently working on the long expected sequel to 'Like Father Like Daughter?'. I was supposed to have it started weeks ago, but things have been moving a little slowly. Sorry for the inconvenience. Tootles!

-Smeagol's (happy skizo freakazoid) girl)


	6. Funny Guy

(A/N: Wow, lots of reveiws lately. Guess I must be doing something right. One question I have to ask since I don't own the movie so I can check, but is the post office woman's name really Juliet? I had no clue what her name was, so I just want to make sure before I have her in another chapter. I know it's sad, but I'm a blonde so forgive me.)

"I liked that lady," said Marissa as they drove home. "She was nice." Mort rolled his eyes and continued towards his house. "Mr. Rainey," said Marissa who was now staring out the back window.

"What?" he asked, looking up into the rearveiw mirror.

"Some old man's following us."

"Crap!" he growled, watching his language this time, and pulled over, knowing who it was.

"Is he a cop?" asked Marissa, looking worried now.

"Not exactly," muttered Mort.

But he sure as hell annoys me as much as one, he added in his head. The sheriff stepped up to his side window, and Mort rolled it down.

"Afternoon, Mort," the sheriff acknowledged.

"The road was blocked," said Mort, looking at him but trying not to seem so disgruntled. "I would have waited, but I had to go to the store."

"I know," said the sheriff. "But if it hadn't been I could have you arrested."

"For shopping?"

"Not exactly. Some of the citizens are getting restraining orders."

"What?!" he muttered. "All because of some rumor? That's bull and you know it."

"No I don't, Mort," said the sheriff. "I don't know what to expect from you anymore."

"That's very kind of you," he answered with a sarcastic smile.

"And who's this?" asked the sheriff, glancing into the back seat where Marissa was. She stared at him blankly, a small hint of distrust on her face.

"Oh that," said Mort, trying to do some fast thinking. "She's my niece," he said softly. "I'm baby sitting her for a few days while her parents are on vacation."

"No..." said Marissa.

"Yes you are," said Mort, leaning over and signalling her to be quiet.

"I see," said the sheriff, obvisouly not fooled. "Step out of the car ma'am." Marissa opened the door, and Mort sat in his seat, watching with anticipation. The bastard wouldn't...

"Do you know this man?" asked the sheriff. Marissa nodded with a grin.

"That's Mr. Rainey. He's cool!"

"What about your parents? Where are they?" Marissa stood frozen for a minute and glanced over at Mort, who was trying to think of how to say 'vacation' with his hands. The sheriff glanced back at him, and Mort waved back with a fake smile. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to Marissa. "Are your parents really on vacation?"

"No," said Marissa. Mort slammed his head into the back of his seat. Why did the twirp have to be honest? Had no one taught her how to lie properly? "They're letting me stay at Mr. Rainey's for the weekend," she said suddenly, surprising both Mort and the cop. Mort ran his right hand up the side of his face, letting the fingers tangle into his hair, and watched, praying that he would buy it.

"Is he really your uncle, miss?" asked the sheriff.

"Yup," said Marissa. "He's the best uncle ever! He let me stay up late, and he made me not scared of thunder no more, and he's funny." Mort rested his right elbow on the steering wheel, his hand still in his hair. The kid was lying through her teeth, and was almost completely convincing.

"Funny?" asked the sheriff.

"Uh-huh! Very funny, like last night when he said a bad word and-"

BEEP!

Mort's elbow slipped on the steering wheel and hit the horn on accident. He jumped with a small yelp, raising his hands up and away from the horn. The sheriff glanced back at him, and Mort looked back, giving a small grin, and sitting back, more relaxed.

"Yeah," said the sheriff, making an awkward face at Mort and looking back at Marissa. "He's a funny guy."

"I like him," she said with a smile. "He's the funnest." Mort smirked a little, not caring now whether or not the sheriff believed her. She was honest when she said that.

The sheriff smirked and tipped his hat at her. "Have a good day miss," he said with a smile. He looked back at Mort with the same smile. "Take care Mort." Mort smiled back, but in his head was boring holes into him with his eyes. Marissa climbed back into the car, and Mort drove off once he was allowed to.

"Who was that guy?" she asked.

"Annoying," muttered Mort. "He likes to drive me crazy."

"I lied," said Marissa, looking guilty. "I told him you were my uncle."

"No!" said Mort in a sarcastic tone. "That's a serious thing to lie about."

"I'm sorry," she said, truly apologetic.

"Well, if you can keep it a secret, I won't tell him." Marissa smiled.

"Thanks, Mr. Rainey."

"You can call me Mort," he said with a smirk.

(I need to know the name of the post office woman before I can continue, just so I don't get angry fans yelling at me. The Harry Potter ones are still getting on my case for getting Squib and Muggle mixed up! So, please tell me her name in your reviews. Cheers!

-Smeagol's (Don't be a hater! Vote for Nader!) girl


	7. The Park

(A/N: Just so you know, I really don't support Nader, I just think the slogan is catchy. Well, I guess the girl's name is Juliet, so thanks, those of you who helped me there. Adios!)

Marissa leaned her back against the sofa, holding a plate with a peanutbutter sandwich in her lap while watching TV. Mort was laying on the sofa, dangerously close to dozing off, his eyes staring blankly at the Powerpuff Girls. He sighed. Cartoons used to be good a long time ago.

"Can I have some milk please, Mort?" Marissa asked, glancing up at him. Mort yawned and nodded, getting to his feet slowly. When he was tired, a simple walk to the kitchen was almost a mile away, but he made it there and opened the fridge, pulling out the milk jug and then turning to the cupboards for a glass.

"How's them Powerpuff Girls?" came a southern drawl. Mort closed his eyes and turned around, whispering so Marissa wouldn't hear him.

"What do you want?" he whispered.

"You're not going to try and send me away?" asked Shooter, seeming a little surprised.

"Why? It doesn't work anyway, so why don't you just say your bull sh... crap, and get out of here."

"Saw you praying last night with the little girlie. Never thought of you as a religious man, Mort, or are you tryin' to get on God's good side after all the things you've done?"

"Take your pick," muttered Mort as he opened up the cupboard for a glass. "You never show up without a reason, so tell me what you want and go."

"I want you to know I've seen the way you look at that little lady in the living room. It'd be a shame if something were to happen to her..."

"Don't," hissed Mort. "I did what you requested. Now leave me alone and stay away from her!"

"Why do you think she's any different, huh? Don't you remember what happened the last time you got attatched to someone? She turned and hurt you bad, so we hurt her bad. What makes you think this youngin' is any different?"

"Marissa's a kid!" said Mort. "You'd seriously kill a kid?"

"Would I? You created me, so ain't it up to you to know that?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to find out. Marissa's a child and she can't hurt me in the same way Amy did, so there's no point in you staying." He gave Shooter a dangerous look, but Shooter merely smirked and stepped back with a shrug.

"You may be right about that, Rainey," he said. "But if I come to think otherwise... you'll know." And with that he walked into the back of the room and disappeared.

"Mort?" called Marissa from the living room. He looked up and closed his eyes trying to shake off the feelings he had at the moment.

"Coming," he called back and poured her glass of milk before returning to her.

The next day, Mort took Marissa to the park to play, and sat on a bench, reading one of his books... well, not really his. Marissa didn't know he still had Mary's book, and he didn't know when he'd tell her, or even if he would. Marissa had gone for almost a day without crying over Mary, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Next to him, the bench tilted a little and he glanced over to see a familiar face. He groaned and shifted a little. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question," said Juliet with a half smirk. "I didn't really peg you as a swinging person."

"Slides," he muttered, a little disgruntled.

"By the way, sorry about the other day, in the store?"

"Whatever," said Mort, watching Marissa and not her. Juliet sighed and looked out at the slides where Marissa was about to go down.

"How long is she staying with you?"

"Till the fat lady sings," said Mort, leaning foreward and resting his elbows on his thighs.

"How old is she?"

"Six," he muttered. "I think she is, at least." She laughed a little.

"You really pay attention to detail," she muttered.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, looking at her for the first time.

"What?"

"Why is it that you suddenly want to talk to me again instead of trying to avoid me? Or are you the nice twin?" Juliet frowned and shook her head.

"It's been over a year, Mort," she said softly. "The buzz has died down and now that people aren't really talking about it anymore, I've had time to actually decide whether or not I believe the stories."

"So you think I'm innocent?" he asked questioningly.

"No," she answered. "I don't know you well enough to make that call yet. But I do believe you're crazy." Mort chuckled a little.

"Then that should speak for itself, Julie," he said, glancing at her. "I don't appreciate being investigated by people I don't know, or in your case, like. I know what you really think, and I'd appreciate it if you just got out of my life again like last time, and let us both have a happily ever after."

"One thing that'll never change is you'll always be an asshole," she replied, glancing up at Marissa. "Wonder how that kid deals with you?"

"She just does, ma'am. Just like I have deal with you right now."

"You know," she said, standing up and giving him a nasty look. "Instead of just telling me to f-off, you could just kindly ask me to leave."

"Alright then," he said, forcing a smile. "Please, my dear lady, get yourself out of here and the hell away from me."

"You know what, fine! But I'd recommend you lightening up. You could use the brownie points, believe me. And there are people who want to see that kid out of your house where it's safe."

"Safe from crazy ol' Mort?" he asked in an angry tone. "Is that what they're saying." Juliet opened her mouth to answer but he didn't let her. "You know what, I give up! There's no way I can prove to anyone I didn't do it, and you know why? Because people here are shitheads who jump to conclusions before getting the facts strait, and you are no different!"

"Oh I'm not?" she responded angrily.

"Not, you aren't! Happy now?"

"I'm going to social services," she said turning around.

"What?" he called back.

"There's no way I'm leaving that poor girl to live with you in your mental hospital!"

"Mental Hospital?" he shouted. "Is that all you got, you little bi-"

He was cut off when he heard someone crying. Turning around he saw Marissa sitting on the ground with her knee drawn up, and crying loudly. As if on instinct, he ran over to her and kneeled down to get a look.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"I fell off the slide," she wailed. Her knee was skinned up and she had a small scrape on the side of her leg, but that was all.

"It's not so bad," he said softly, picking her up and carrying her over to the bench. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh-huh," she whined. "I think my leg's broken."

"Your leg's not broken," he said with a smirk.

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not," he said softly. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?" She nodded, her lower lip sticking out. He kissed her knee gently and looked at her. "That better?" She nodded, and he gave her a hug. "Is that as tight as you can squeeze?" She giggled and squeezed tighter and he pretended to choke. "Ack! Oh no! She's chocking me!" Marissa laughed and pulled back.

"Did I choke you, Mort?"

"You most certainly did," he said with a smile.

"I'm gonna choke you again!" she said, and gave him another hug, squeezing as tight as she could. Mort pretended to choke again, not noticing that Juliet had been watching and was now smiling.

"You want to get some ice cream?" he asked her. She smiled and nodded.

"Can you carry me?" she asked, sticking out her lip again.

"I guess so," he said in a pitiful tone, and then placed her on his shoulders, walking across the street and to the nearest ice cream store.

Juliet smiled to herself and shook her head. Maybe there was more to Mort Rainey than meets the eye?

(A/N: Hey! Just to let some of you know, on thursday I'll be leaving for the holidays, so with my stories there won't be any updates from friday till the day we get back in school. I know it kind of sucks, but I won't have access to the internet during that time, not even at the library, so I'll try to have updates every day. Thank you one and all! And happy holidays!

-Smeagol's (ociffer, I swear to drunk I'm not God!) girl.)


	8. Shooter's Hat

(A/N: Hope y'all had a good x-mas! It's good to be back! On w/ the story then.)

Mort looked over when he noticed Marissa hadn't spoken in a while and saw that she'd fallen asleep on the sofa. He smirked and glanced back at the TV screen, deciding he might as well find out how the Powerpuff girls were going to save the day. There was a soft knocking at the door and he turned, wondering who on earth would visit him besides the sheriff.

Shrugging, he walked over to the door and opened it, not surprised to find Juliet there. "Sorry," she said softly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"No," he said, surprisingly calm. "I was just watching a... scary show." Juliet nodded and held up a bag.

"I got some Barbie dolls and clothes for Marissa," she said, handing him the bag. "I ran into Chris at the gas station and he told me about her." Mort glanced at her, seeming worried.

"Chris just told you?" he asked.

"I told him not to tell anyone else for you so don't worry." He looked at her suspiciously.

"And what about social services? Thought you were going to get them involved?" Juliet looked down and shook her head.

"She seems so happy around you," she muttered. "Figured after loosing her family she's basically been through enough." She nodded and he nodded, knowing he wouldn't be able to find a reason to get angry with her. "Listen, I had you all wrong. Sorry. Just wanted you to know that I don't think a murderer could be that friendly and loving to a little girl."

He knew it was meant to be a complement and he accepted it, giving a small smirk. "Thanks," he said softly. "And thanks for the stuff," he added, holding up the bag.

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Look, I gotta go now, so, bye."

"Yeah, bye." She nodded and left, driving away and leaving Mort to go through the bag and see what all she had gotten Marissa.

(One hour later...)

"Wow! Cool!"

Mort looked up from the stove and smirked. He was making tomatoe soup and grilled cheese sandwiches when Marrissa had woken up and walked into her bedroom. He waited patiently and soon heard the sounds of eager footsteps running towards him. Marrissa was holding a box with a Barbie in it in one hand, and a box with a different one in the other.

"Look what I found on my bed!" Mort pretended to be surprised.

"Wow!" he said with a smile. "Where'd you get that?"

"I found them on my bed! Did you put them there?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know where they came from."

"Maybe... maybe Mr. Jibby put them there!"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I think you'd better go say thankyou." Marissa smilled and ran off to her room and Mort soon heard a very loud, "Thank you, Mr. Jibby!!!"

He laughed to himself, knowing she'd figure out the truth eventually, but for now he might as well let her think it was magic.

"Mort! He gave me a hat too!"

Mort looked up and made a face. Hat? He didn't recall seeing a hat in the bag Juliet gave him. "It's too big," said Marissa as she walked into the kitchen with the hat on her head. Mort sucked in his breath and took a step back. It wasn't her hat. It was Shooter's.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, unable to sound calm. Marissa looked up nervously and pointed to her bedroom.

"It was on my bed with the Barbies," she said innocently. Mort reached out his hand.

"That's my hat," he said, now sounding a little more calm. "Just give it to me, please." She did, watching him with unsure eyes, and he set it down on the counter. "There," he said, turning back to her and smiling. "Do me a favor and never touch that hat again, okay? It's sort of special to me and I don't want it getting ruined."

"Okay," said Marissa.

"Well, er... go on and play. I'll call you when dinner's ready." She nodded and went back to her room, giving him a weird look before she left.

Mort closed his eyes and held the hat in his hands, fingers enclosing around it tightly with anger. He didn't remember putting it there which could have only meant one thing...

"Shooter," he called softly. "We need to talk..." There was silence, then footsteps behind him. He turned, and standing there was John Shooter in the flesh.

"What can I do yeh for, pilgrim?" he asked. Mort sneered at him and held up the hat.

"You think this is funny? It's sick. You're sick, and I told you to leave the girl alone!" He was being very deffensive, and Shooter merely grinned.

"My, my, my, how the soccer mom gets deffensive," he mocked. "Afraid you might walk in her room one day and find her hanging from the wall with a screwdriver through that young neck of hers?" Mort felt his stomach do a barrel roll.

"You sick bastard!" he shouted. "Leave Marissa alone! She hasn't done anything! Just go away! Leave me alone!"

"The only way I can leave that girlie of yours is if you get her away from yourself. But you're not going to do that, are you?" He gritted his teeth.

"You said you wouldn't do anything to her unless she presented a reason," he retorted. "Other than annoying the hell out of me with her cartoons, what has she done? Well?"

"Mr. Rainey, if I killed her now, it'd be a mercy killing, do you understand me? You still think she's safe with you. I've met drunks that were brighter than you, sir. If only you knew the torment you're capable of putting that girl through. And you never know how much a little girl like herself can endure before she dies in your arms..."

"Go!" shouted Mort. "Get out of my house! Leave us alone!"

"First, let me just warn you. If that girl isn't out of your house by this time next week, I will put her through a living hell, and you won't be able to stop it. You can only watch. Do you understand me?" He disappeared before Mort could do anything, and Mort was left standing there, Shooter's hat in his hands and images in his head of what might happen.

Mort lay wide awake in bed for hours, only thinking of one thing, Marissa. What did Shooter have in mind with her? He could only see her innocent face in his head and he didn't want to see it hurting. He didn't want to be the one to hurt her. She wouldn't know it wasn't him, she'd never understand.

"Moooort," came a whine. Mort had been so busy thinking that he hadn't heard Marissa step into his room, sniffling and brushing tears from her face. He sat up and looked at her in concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Her bottom lip was sticking out, her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were red with tear stains.

"I had a bad dream," she whimpered. Mort extended his arms to her.

"Come up here," he said softly, and she ran to him and jumped onto the bed and into his arms. "Want to tell me about it?" he asked.

"No," she sniffled.

"It'll help."

"No. I'm just scared."

"Okay," he whispered and wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth.

"Can I sleep in here?"

"Of coarse," he said softly. "Will that help?"

"Yes," she sniffled, and he laid down on his back, Marissa laying on his chest, a doll clutched in bend of her arm. He put and arm around her, and used his free hand to pull the blankets up and keep them warm. Marissa was soon asleep in his arms and he closed his eyes, trying to focus on her breathing, rather than Shooter's warning.

(A/N: How's that? My mind is still a little drained. Yesterday, I watched all three LOTR movies, one after the other. The extended versions! It took like, 11 and a half hours! Mom's idea. I love TV, and I can sit still for about an hour and a half at the most, but after two you're ready to run laps around the house or something! Sheesh! Oh well. They're still the best movies in the universe. Second best are the Tim Burton films, followed by the Gore Verbinski films (The Ring, Pirates of the Caribbean...). So, R&R! Bye!

-Smeagol's (No, I never did hit the old man with glasses! I hit him with a baseball bat.) girl.)


	9. Tantrum

A/N: Hi! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I made the mistake of having five things going at once, so I'll work on one each day. So Fridays are official Bird days. If there's no update up the day after I've updated, there always will be one on Friday for this one at least. Yes, I am in waaay over my head, but now I know why they say not to bite off more than you can chew... actually, I discovered the meaning to that the day I discovered Habenero peppers... youch! G2G!

-Smeagol's (Jesus freak and proud of it) girl.)

Mort sat himself down on the park bench while Marissa ran around and began to play with the other kids. She had brought one of her barbies with, and had met up with another girl who had them.

"I see you're back," said Juliet as she stepped up to him. Mort smirked.

"She wanted to show off her new doll," he said, pointing to Marissa. "She says thankyou, by the way."

"You told her it was me?" asked Juliet.

"Actually, she thinks her imaginary friend gave them to her. Sorry if that's a problem." Juliet shrugged.

"It's not. As long as she liked them."

"Can I ask you a question? How is it that you seem to know so much about girls?" She laughed and he snickered a little.

"Well," she answered, sitting next to him. "I stay up late at night, studying them for a living. Really, Mort, we're not all that complicated."

"I can't understand half the things she says half the time. Last night she wanted to play dressup and pretend she was a princess."

"Did you?" asked Juliet. Mort looked a little embarrased.

"Maybe a little."

"Didn't you ever play dressup when you were little?"

"No. I played fun things like GI Joe's and hot wheels, and robot toys. They don't seem to interest her."

"Well duh! She's a girl."

"Sorry, but I don't understand 'girl'."

"Funny," she muttered. "I thought that you of all people would." He looked at her and shoved her, and she laughed at him.

"Sorry, but it's been a while since I've worn my pretend tiara."

"You can borrow mine."

"Miss Julie!" shouted Marissa as she ran up to her. Juliet, surprised that the girl was addressing her, gave her a hug and smiled.

"Hello, Marissa!"

"She wanted to know your name," explained Mort.

"Look what Mr. Jibby gave me!" she said with a smile, holding up the barbie.

"Oh wow! That's really cool! Mr. Jibby must be a nice person to give you something like that."

"There another one at home, but Mort said I should only bring one. He thinks I'll lose one."

"Because you will," said Mort with a smile. "We're still looking for your other Mary Jane shoe." Marissa giggled and Juliet smiled.

"You know what, you'll have to come over sometime and sleep over. We'll have a girls only day."

"Cool," said Marissa. "Do you have any dolls?"

"Uh-huh. And a big doll house we could play with."

"Wow, well we'll have to set up a time for you to do that someday, huh?" said Mort.

"Today?" she asked, putting on her puppy eyes.

"No," both Mort and Juliet said in unison. "We'll set it up sometime, alright?" said Mort. Marissa pouted.

"Alright," she groaned.

"Go play, the sun's actually shining today," said Mort. Marissa jumped off Juliet's lap and ran off to play. "You know, she won't stop beggin for me to let her go now," he said with a smile. Juliet snickered.

"I'll call you guys then when I get the chance."

"Thanks," said Mort. "I think she needs a female influence once in a while too, so I appreciate it."

"Why? Afraid she might turn into you?" He gave her a meaningful look, then covered it over with a smile.

"Maybe a little."

"Well, maybe I'll call this weekend then. I think I'll have Saturday off, so if she wants to come over on Friday."

"Sounds good. Call first so I know if it's still going to work."

"I'll do that." She looked back over to Marissa, and nudged him. "Uh, Mort?" He looked up and saw Marissa hit another girl, then snatch her barbie from her, holding it close to her and pouting.

"Hey!" called Mort, getting to his feet. The little girl Marissa had hit was crying, and Marissa immediatly put on an innocent face when Mort came up to her.

"She tried to steal my barbie," said Marissa, sticking out her lip.

"That doesn't mean you can hit her!" scolded Mort.

"I don't care," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "She stole my barbie so I hit her."

"That's wrong, Marissa. You don't do that to people. How would you like it?"

"She started it," whined Marissa.

"Apologize to her now," said Mort, not giving in to her puppy eyes this time.

"No."

"Marissa, apologize to her or we're going now."

"No," repeated Marissa, stamping her foot. Mort stood up and picked her up, kicking and screaming, "No! No! No!" Juliet couldn't help but smirk as she walked up to him. "Need help?"

"I'll call you," he said, with a nod. Marissa was sticking out her lip and crying loudly, which was causing other people to stare. Mort, feeling embarrased now, looked at Marissa. "Are you going to apologize?"

"No!" shouted Marissa, and Mort placed her in the backseat and buckled her in, then climbed into the driver's seat.

"I think someone needs a nap," he said to Juliet through the window.

"Call me if you need anything," said Juliet.

"I will."

"I wanna play on the swings!" wailed Marissa.

"No," said Mort. "You misbehaved and now you're going to be punished."

"NOOOO!!!" screamed Marissa as she began to throw a tantrum. Mort turned on the car and drove away, waving to Juliet as he passed her. When they got home, Marissa stomped in the house, arms folded over her chest and lower lip sticking out. Mort hung up his jacket and kneeled in front of her.

"Go to your room," he said, pointing to her room.

"NO!"

"Marissa, enough! Go to your room now!" he shouted.

"NO!" He sighed, stood up and took her by the hand, practically dragging her up the stair and down the hall, kicking and screaming. He picked her up and sat her on her bed. "Now you're going to sit here until you're ready to behave," he said, not giving in to her pouting and whining.

"I hate you!" she shouted. He gritted his teeth, but stood up, knowing that walking away was the best thing to do now, and left the room, closing the door behind him. He held the knob, and soon heard her climb off the bed and head to the door. Sure enough, she tried the knob, but he held it shut while she screamed at him. "I hate you!" she screamed. "You're mean!"

"Marissa!" he shouted. "Get back on your bed and be quiet! I have had enough!" His voice was booming and it must have startled her because she stopped trying the door. She did not stop sobbing loudly and shouting things at him, so he wen downstairs and sat on the sofa with his head in his hands. The phone rang and he answered it.

"How's it going?" asked Juliet. He groaned.

"Well, I've sent her to her room until she calms down," he muttered.

"So what's she doing now? Is she settling down?" Marissa started shouting things again, and he held up the phone for Juliet to hear.

"I SAID I HATE YOU! YOU'RE STUPID! THAT GIRL WAS STUPID! AND I'M NOT SORRY! I'M NOOOOT SOOOORRRYYY!!!"

He lowered the phone back to his ear and sighed. "That answer your question?" Juliet laughed.

"Well, nothing to do now but wait till it stops. But you've done good."

"I know, but she said she hates me. Should I be worried?"

"Mort, didn't you ever tell your parents that?"

"A few times," he admitted.

"It's normal. And if she hates you, that means you're doing a good job." He snickered.

"Glad to hear it. From the sounds of it I'll be getting the 'Employee of the Year' award soon." Juliet laughed.

"Just hold in there, take plenty of headache medicine, and once it's been quiet for abou fifteen minutes, check on her."

"I'll do that. Bye."

"Bye." He hung up and sat back as the tantrum continued.

"I'LL NEVER EVER FORGIVE YOU! NEVER!"

He shrugged and turned on the TV to the Sports channel. "Guess I'm going to have to live with that," he muttered to himself.

(A/N: I figured that Marissa had been a little too well behaved and it was about time for her to have a bad day. Almost all little kids do, even my perfect' little sister. R&R please!)


	10. Todd Downey

(A/N: Hi! Just as promised, for your Friday morning Feature, an update! Sorry they take so long, but better late than never, right? For any Harry Potter fans out there, I have two stories I really want you to read! One is called, 'The Curse of Abel Frye', and it's sequel, 'Nightmare Academy', which has started to spark some conversation. Okay, on w/ the story.)

The screaming stopped almost an hour later, and Mort waited till he thought it was safe to step in. Marissa was sitting on her bed, staring at the quilt his mother had sewn him a long time ago. When she looked up at him, she looked exhausted. She had mostlikely worn herself out.

"Hey, munchkin," he said, walking in and sitting down on the bed. "You want to talk now, or are you going to misbehave." She shook her head.

"You're going to send me away, aren't you?" No, Mort immediatly thought, but he wanted to see what she had to say.

"I don't know," he answered. "If you hate me then I guess you don't want to live here." She looked at him with sad eyes and sniffled.

"I don't hate you," she said softly. "I just want Mary. Today is her birthday, and I can't say happy birthday to her."

"Oh," he gasped slightly, now understanding what the fuss was about. "Oh, oh, oh. Is that what's been bothering you?" Marissa stuck out her bottom lip, sniffled, and nodded as she started to cry again. Mort pulled her into his lap, and held her comfortingly. "It's okay," he whispered. "Mary wouldn't want you to cry."

"I can't help it," she wimpered.

"I know," he muttered. "I know what it's like to lose someone you love." He thought of the night he had burst into the hotel to find Amy and Ted in bed together. "I know all about it."

"You had someone die?" she asked, looking up at him.

"No," he lied. "She didn't die. She just left."

"So we're both alone," she said in a pathetic tone.

"Yup, I guess we are. But at least we can be alone together." He smiled at her, and she gave a weak halfsmile.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said. He grinned and nodded.

"Come here, munchkin," he said, giving her a very squishy hug, and then let go. "Want to order a pizza now?" he asked.

"Yeah!" she cheered. "Cheese!"

"Alright then." He stood up and walked into the living room and dialed up Mama Mia's Pizzeria, and waited as it rang. Marissa came running to him, making sure he got the order right.

"Mama Mia's, can I help you?" asked a voice on the other end.

"Yeah," he said, smiling at Marissa. "I'd like to order a medium pizza with lots and lots of veggies!"

"NOOOO!!!" shouted Marissa, laughing a little, and Mort chuckled.

"Just kidding," he said. "I'll take a medium cheese pizza."

"Will that complete your order?"

"Bring over a 2 liter bottle of Mt. Dew too please."

He finished up, and then hung up, looking at Marissa with a devilish grin. "They're bringing over a pizza with extra veggies just for you."

"EEEEEEWWWWW!!!!" shouted Marissa, and Mort chased her around the living room, catching up to her rather quickly and then picking her up and holding her upside down, laughing and squealing.

"Ew?" he asked, half laughing. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Mort! Put me down!" she laughed.

"Oh no no no! I don't think so..."

"Mort! I gotta go potty!"

"Oh!" he said, gently setting her down. "Okay! Run!" She ran alright, as fast as she could and into the bathroom, and he laughed.

"Girl runs faster than a spooked horse, doesn't she, pilgrim?" asked a hated voice. Mort turned around to face Shooter, and sneered.

"Go away," he growled.

"Not gonna even let me say a word now, are you Mr. Rainey?"

"Not if I can help it. You get your ass back down to Mississippi."

"You know damn well I can't do that, pilgrim. You've been tellin' me to do a lot of things to that girl. I've held off to give you time to think if that's what you really want now."

"I've told you to leave her alone," threatened Mort.

"You've said that too." Mort looked at him confused.

"Too?"

"It's sad Mr. Rainey, that you know so little about yourself. There's been a lot of things you've wanted done to that perty lil' girl of yours. It'll be sad if it does happen. She's only what, six? And to think she trusts you."

"You're a liar!"

"Am I? You can go see for yourself. Check your writting." He disappeared, and Mort stood there, too flustered to do anything at the moment, and he was so deep in thought that he gave a shout when the doorbell rang. The pizza man was standing there, seeming nervous to even be near him, and he wondered how news had spread outside the village.

"Pizza!" shouted Marissa excitedly. Mort smiled, deciding to ignore Shooter's warning until later. For now, he was going to sit at his table and enjoy a cheese pizza with his favorite umpaloompa.

"G'night, Marissa," he said softly, closing her bedroom door. It was finally time. He couldn't escape from it anymore. He had to see what Shooter was talking about. Turning on his computer, he waited until he could open up the word processor, and then click on 'open document' when it was up. He read through all the names or files until he came upon one that read 'Marissa' on it. Guessing the obvious, he opened it, and immediatly words appeared, the font changing on all of them, some of them in a bigger text size than others, all obviously typed in a rush.

He looked around to make sure Marissa had not wandered out of her room, and read the document.

Reaching for her with hungry eyes, Todd Downey seized the helpless girl by her small neck, and squeezed as tigtly as he could until she went beautifully limp in his arms...

Todd stepped into the girl's room, a knife in one hand, and a killer's smile on his face. "You better hope there's a heaven," he said menacingly...

The little girl stood on the stairway with a smile on her face. "What are you doing, Mr. Downey?" she asked. Todd looked at her, moving his finger to the trigger of the gun he was holding under the desk.

"Would you like to see?" he asked. Smilling, she nodded and walked over to him, and he seized the first available moment...

Mort sat back. There were several more scenarios listed, but none of them ended, even though it was obvious what happened to the girl in the end.

"You seem to have some trouble finishing these, Mr. Rainey." said Shooter from behind. Mort knew he had been watching him for a while now, and turned to face him casually.

"Maybe that's a good thing," he muttered.

"For now a' least. But wait till the week is up. You'll have had so many scenarios listed that you'll manage to think up the perfect ending. And then what?"

"You won't lay one hand on her," threatened Mort, getting to his feet. "I won't finish the story so you're waisting your time."

"Am I?" asked Shooter. He smirked and walked away, leaving Mort to stand there, nervously, listening to the sounds of the night around him.


	11. Ihops

(A/N: I see a little sillouetto of a man, skatamoosh! Skatamoosh! Will you do the fandango? Thunderbolted lightning, very very frightening me! Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo, Gallileo Figaro. Magnificooo...

If y'all don't know Queen then the last part made no sense. Okay, now for your Friday Morning Feature, an update!)

Mort barely slept that night, his mind wandering to scary thoughts of what his subconcious self had been planning to do to Marissa. First Chico, then Tom Greenleaf, then his NYPD body guard, then Ted Milner (who had it coming), and finally, Amy (who also had it coming). Would Shooter really go as far as to murder Marissa? She was just a child for God's sake!

He stood up, unlocking his jaw, and walked over out of his bedroom and down the landing to Marissa's door. He had to check on her, just to make sure she was alright. To make sure Shooter hadn't hurt her. As he slowly opened the door, a beam of light shone through the crack and widened as he opened the door further. At last he saw Marissa's sleeping face, completely peaceful and carefree. Tucked in with her were her two barbies. Mort smiled a little and slowly closed the door so he wouldn't wake her.

"She's alright," he said to himself.

But for how much longer?

"I don't know," he answered in dismay. He turned and went down the stairs and laid on the sofa, and ever so gradually he fell asleep.

----

"Mort!" shouted Marissa's voice from above, and he jerked awake. She sounded frantic, afraid or worried about something. Mort shot up the stairs and burst through her door.

"What's wrong?" he asked. But Marissa was smiling and pointed to her bed.

"I made the bed all by myself." He looked over and sure enough, she had, as well as could be of a six year old at least. Sighing, and realizing he had worried for nothing, he forced a smile.

"Wow," he said, kneeling down. "That's really cool, munchkin."

"Are you proud of me?" she asked, looking cute.

"I am proud of you," he said, snickering a little. "You want to go out for pancakes?"

"Yeah!" she said eagerly.

"Well get dressed and we'll go."

"Um, Mort? Could you brush my hair for me?"

"Sure," he said. "Just come and get me when you're dressed." He left and climbed down the stairs, into the living room. He had brushed Marissa's hair for her everyday she'd been there, which took a bit of adjustment. Mort had never brushed a little girl's hair for her before, and never had to put it in a ponytail or braids. Instead, he just brushed it out and let it hang down freely.

Marissa came down in a pair of pink overalls with 'Hello Kitty' on them, and a purple T-shirt underneath. He brushed her hair out, and then loaded her up in the car, and drove down to Ihops.

They had barely stepped through the door when Marissa suddenly broke into a smile and ran up to a familiar face. "Miss Julie!" she squealed, and Juliet, who had been asking for a table for one, turned wih surprise and smiled when Marissa came over, arms wide open, ready for a hug.

"Hey, Marissa," she said, giving her a hug. She looked up and saw Mort hanging up his coat. "Hi Mort," she said, waving.

"Hullo," he said, smiling.

"Are you three together then?" asked the waiter. Mort and Juliet shrugged.

"I guess so, sure," said Mort. Juliet smiled and nodded. The waiter took them to a booth, and Marissa sat next to Mort while Juliet sat across from them.

"So what brings you here?" asked Mort.

"I'm going to visit my cousin after this. He lives a few miles from here, and I haven't had a decent meal in ages. Only making minimum wage, which isn't much." Mort smiled.

"I remember what that was like," he said with a smile. "Before I took up writing."

"Really? What did you used to do?"

"I worked at a Pizza Hut, making pizza." He snickered and she smirked.

"I never really pictured you doing anything other than writing."

"Trust me, even the great ones have poor starts."

"Barbie has a good job," said Marissa with a smile. "She's a flight attendant."

"Really?" asked Juliet with a smile. "Does she make a lot of money?"

"Yup, and she's going to have her own house soon. That is, if Santa gives her one."

"Have you been a good girl?"

"Yeah. Real good."

Mort snickered and looked back at his menue. "Marissa, do you know what you want?" he asked, looking over at her.

"I want pancakes," she said, nodding.

"What kind? You've got a few options here..." he read them off, but her eyes lightened up when he read off a particular one.

"Chocolate chip!" she said, nodding eagerly. Mort shrugged.

"Okay," he said.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom," she said, sliding out of the booth.

"Do you know where it is?" he asked. She nodded and scuttled off to the bathroom. Mort looked over at Juliet and snickered, shaking his head. "Chocolate chip," he chuckled. "Figures, she's attracted to the most sugar packd item on the menue." Juliet giggled and nodded.

"I used to love those when I was little. My mom made them for me from scratch."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. She made them turtle shaped."

"Turtle shaped?" She laughed and nodded.

"She would make a big circle for the shell, pour four small ones on the sides for legs, a head, and a tail. Then she put chocolate chips on the head for eyes."

"And I thought I was strange," said Mort, knowing that in secret, she would never be able to top him.

"Hey, I love my turtle pancakes. I still make them like that."

"Well I'm never eating breakfast at your house." Her mouth widened and she started laughing. "That sounded pretty wrong, didn't it?"

"Just a little," she giggled. "Oh, I just remembered. My neice, Elisa, is coming over on Friday to spend the night. Would Marissa like to come over?"

"I'll have to clear it with her agent, but I think we can pencil you in," he said in a cheesey tone, glancing at the back of his fingernails.

"Well cool. Give me a call then by tomarrow then." She pulled out a napkin and wrote down her number. He remembered when he had first asked out Amy and she gave him her phone number on a napkin. Juliet handed it to him, and her stowed it in his jacket pocket.

Marissa came back a few minutes later and Mort smirked at her. "What happened? You fall in?"

"No," she laughed.

"Hey Marissa," said Juliet. "Do you still want to come over to my house?"

"Uh-huh!" she said eagerly.

"You don't want to do that," teased Mort. "There'll be all those dolls and girly things! You don't like that do you?"

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't."

"Yes I do!" she laughed and he smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" He smiled.

"Okay." She smiled and Juliet beamed at him. This was a side of Mort she had not seen, nor did she expect to see... ever. Perhaps Marissa was a better influence on him than he was on her?

When they finished eating Mort was amused with the fact that Marissa had managed to get syrup all over her face, in her hair, on her shirt... "Next time we'll bring you a bib," he teased. "Why don't you go in the bathroom and try to wash off your face." She climbed off the booth, and Mort looked at the check.

"How much do I owe?" asked Juliet.

"You know what, don't worry about it. It's on me," he said with a grin.

"No, seriously. I'll pay for me."

"On minimum wage?" he asked. "I'll pay for you. You can return the favor when we go out for dinner." She raised her eyebrows.

"What?" she asked. He gave her a funny smile, and she chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh no," she laughed. "You seriously think I'll go out with you?"

"It's not really a date," he said, shaking his head. "More like two friends hanging out." Juliet laughed and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Oh, you're a wiley one," she muttered. She looked up "Okay. Fine. As long as you don't mind dining cheap."

"Ma'am, I sleep on my sofa, I spent six months living with a dog and living of Doritoes and Mt. Dew. Do you think I care?" He laughed a little and she shrugged.

"Okay. Call me when you've got a babysitter."

"I'll do that."

Marissa came back, but didn't look much better. Mort sighed. "Guess you're getting a bath when we get home," he said, grinning. "Ready to go, munchkin?"

"Yup." They all stood up and Mort paid at the counter. Mort promised to call incase anything came up, and then left with Marissa to go home. When he pulled into the driveway, he looked in the rearveiw mirror to see Marissa had fallen asleep. She looked so peaceful and content. If you looked at her, you wouldn't have believed she had thrown a monster of a tantrum the day before. He climed out of the car, and then carefully pulled her out, carrying her, and kicked her door shut behind hm.

Deciding the sticky mess could wait, he laid her down on the sofa, and let her sleep, while he went up to his computer to write for a while.

(A/N: I am writing this and I am really sick at the moment, so if the chapter stunk, I wasn't really focused. In fact, I feel like I'm going to collapse, so I'll leave y'all to it.)


	12. How Does It End

(A/N: Finally an update! I had one done like a while ago but then the computer crashed before I could save it and I'm lazy... but now I'm back. And whoever made the Micheal Jackson comment, no that's not going to happen. I may have a messed up mind, but not that messed up.)

"Are you going to be on your best behavior?" asked Mort as he rang Juliet's doorbell. Little Marissa stood there with her backpack, bouncing up and down, very excited.  
"Yes," she said with a smile. The door opened and Juliet looked down at her and smiled.  
"Hey Marissa! Lizzie's in the living room. C'mon in." Marissa ran on in, her backpack bouncing behind her. Juliet chuckled and looked over at Mort. "Well if it isn't Mr. Mom," she said smiling. Mort smiled and ran a hand through his hair.  
"Very funny," he muttered. "I'm glad you could take her for the night. I could use the break"  
"Anytime," she said. "Want to come in"  
"That's alright, I think she wants me to go anyway. If she misbehaves don't hesitate to throw her out the window." She chuckled and shook her head.  
"And about that dinner we agreed on"  
"Oh, right," he said, turning on the charm.  
"If you find a babysitter on thursday, it's a plan." He nodded.  
"Right... but I don't know any baby sitters"  
"Leave it to me then," she said. "I have connections"  
"You're sure people will just agree to it, especially if they know it's for me"  
"Not if they think it's for me," said Juliet.  
"Ah!" he said, catching on. "Thursday it is then"  
She smiled and nodded. "Good deal"  
"Mooort!" came a wail and he looked over at Marissa who came running over.  
"What is it, hon"  
"I forgot Cindy at home! We've got to go back and get her!" She was acting like it was a life or death situation, and Juliet looked at Mort questioningly.  
"Cindy?" she asked.  
"Her doll," he answered. "She can't sleep without it"  
"C'mon! We gots to go!" she wailed.  
"You know what, I'll go back and get her. You stay here and go have some fun. Okay"  
"Will you bring her super fast"  
"Faster than Superman," he said. She nodded, seeming a little glum and muttered, "Okay"  
"I'll see you in five minutes then," he said to Juliet. She smiled and nodded and let him go.  
-  
"Where are you?" growled Mort as he dug around Marissa's room. It was already a mess and he was going crazy just trying to find a doll.  
"The thing 'bout lil' kids it they don' know how teh keep their rooms clean, do they"  
Mort, who was halfway under Marissa's bed looked up, smacking his head on the bottom of her bed.  
"Ow! Dammit!" he growled, and crawled out. "What the hell do you want?" Shooter stood in front of him, holding a piece of paper.  
"I've read a lot of your stories, Mr. Rainey. This one's a masterpiece." Mort made a face.  
"What is it?" he asked darkly.  
"It's a surprise endin', one I didn't even see coming. That lil' girl's in for a treat." Mort felt his blood freeze in his veins and he looked at him nervously.  
"How does it end?" he asked, fear in his voice.  
"Well, I'm thinkin' I'll leave that for you to find out. You see, the best kind of endin' is the kind that sneaks up on you. Catches you completely by surprise"  
"How does it end!" he shouted and charged at him. All at once Shooter disappeared and Mort's head met with the wall.  
He shouted a chain of obscenities, and rubbed over the instand bruise on his head. Groaning, he sat on the floor, motionless for a long time until he wasn't so dazed and got to his feet. "Dammit!" he growled and walked out of the room, carrying the doll with him.  
-  
"Are you okay, you got a large bruise on your head," said Juliet when he came back.  
"Oh, it's nothing. Just found out the hard way my big head won't fit under her bed, that's all"  
"Cindy!" cried Marissa as she ran up and snatched her doll from him. "Thankyou"  
"You're welcome," he said, smiling and ruffling her hair. "Is that everything?" he asked.  
"I think so," she said and he smiled.  
"Can you give Mort a kiss goodbye?" he asked and she kissed him on the cheek and ran off. "Nice big sloppy one," he muttered, rubbing his face. Juliet laughed and he grinned.  
"So thursday, then," he said.  
"Thursday"  
"See you later then"  
"Bye." He left and she watched as he drove away. "What have I gotten myself into?" she muttered, then turned around, shaking her head and going back to the girls.  
-  
(A/N: Tah-dah! Yes, it was short, yes it was weird, but at least it's here! The next two weeks might be a little slow for me because I have Regents exams and finals and all that great crap so I'll see what I can do. It feels great to be back!) 


End file.
